Ch. 10: Hidden
"Was he armed?"
Their pace quickened considerably after he called Vic. They were already moving at a good clip. Now, they were jogging through the narrow cut-through that connected the two wider trails. Walt still held his phone. But, he couldn't hear very much. She didn't have the phone in her hand. He knew that. It would be in her back pocket where she always carried it.
"I didn't see a weapon."
That didn't mean there wasn't one. Walt stopped and Colter nearly ran into him.
"What?"
Walt looked at the ground.
"He stopped right here."
Colter looked puzzled.
"Why would he do that?"
Walt shook his head.
"I don't know. But…it looks like he walked around."
"Is there another way through?"
Walt shook his head.
"Not an easy one. He wouldn't be able to move with any speed."
Colter turned in a circle.
"Which way leads to Vic."
Walt looked up at the trees.
"Both. But…this one…"
He gestured at the small dirt trail they were on, forged by animals and hunters.
"…is the easiest. This way…"
He motioned at the brush.
"…would be quicker."
As the crow flies.
The though filtered through his mind. He looked to Colter.
"You stay on this path. You'll make good time. It's not far. I'll go this way in case he's trying something here."
Colter nodded.
"Be careful, Walt."
Walt acknowledged the Marshal's words.
"You too."
Walt slid his Colt free and pushed into the bushes. He briefly held the phone to his ear, but he couldn't hear anything other than static. No background noise of any kind. He glanced at the screen.
No signal.
The call had dropped.
Walt shoved the phone into his pocket and sped up his steps, careful not trip. He wouldn't do Vic any good if he rushed headlong through terrain like this. He didn't know anything about this man. This Finn Mason. That made him nervous. He had no idea what the man might do if Vic stood between him and a way out of this situation. A cornered animal was the most dangerous kind. The same was true of humans.
He knew Vic could handle herself. She had more than proven that. But, in surroundings like these, she wouldn't have the advantage of seeing something coming. For all they knew, Mason was tracking her and waiting for the right moment to make a move.
Walt shook the thoughts from his mind. He needed to keep his focus on what was in front of him. If Finn Mason came this way, he picked through carefully. Walt didn't see any obvious signs that a person came through recently. But, this man was proving that he was smart. He knew what he was doing. He was familiar with the area and the outdoors in general. Colter wouldn't have made it this far on his own.
Walt gauged that Mason could outthink Colter. They were two very different men in his mind. Most likely from very different backgrounds and lifestyles.
Walt paused once to look around and take stock of where he was. Outside of the normal sounds of the bush, he didn't hear anything that seemed out of place or that caused him any suspicion. He started to move again, careful to make as little noise as possible as he moved. If he wound up having an advantage, he didn't want to give himself away.
He needed any edge that he could give himself.
The air around him was cool and overcast. The kind of day that reminded him that snow would soon be on its way and that winter was just around the corner. There would only be a handful of fall days left before the scales of the seasons tipped too far in the direction of cold and left the more pleasant temperatures behind.
Why did the colder weather always feel like a beacon of something coming? An omen of something that felt ominous.
xxx
Walt would have been proud. She heard Mason before she ever saw him. There was a time, not so long ago, that might not have been the case. Adaptation. It was necessary for survival. Species didn't really matter. Vic stopped and lifted her gun. The figure moving through the trees also stopped.
Damn visibility.
"Finn Mason."
He turned and stepped out where she could see him better. Vic could feel her heart thumping in her ears. It didn't matter how long she did this job. The nerves never got any better in situations like this one. Especially, not when she was alone. And, not when the object of her attention was holding a gun and pointing it at her.
"Deputy, drop your gun please."
There was an almost pleasant tone to his voice. But, he was armed. His hand held a revolver, an old looking one. But still capable.
"I can't do that. And, you know it."
Finn Mason looked oddly calm and not the least bit perturbed that they were standing in a faceoff with guns drawn. He didn't move other than taking another step in her direction. Vic held her ground.
"Don't. I will shoot."
He smiled a little when she said it.
"I have no doubt that you will. And, I have no desire to get shot. I was shot once. It wasn't very much fun."
He reached up and tapped his left shoulder.
"Here. Still bothers me sometimes."
Vic swallowed, her mouth feeling pasty and dry. He was way too relaxed.
"Have you?"
Vic narrowed her eyes.
"Have I what?"
"Ever been shot?"
It crossed her mind that he might be messing with her head. Trying to distract her. His tone was calm, nearly friendly except for the predicament they found themselves in.
"Yeah."
She couldn't have said what made her answer him. Honestly, at that.
"Where?"
Vic shook off his question.
"I need you to lower that. I would rather not have to kill you. I still need answers."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"We all need answers, Deputy. Isn't that why we're here?"
"I'm here because a boy is dead."
Finn's expression didn't change.
"I mean…here in this life. Finding answers to our questions seems to be the only reason for our existence here."
Vic swallowed, her patience for his vague conversation eroding.
"Put the gun down, Finn."
He gave his head the slightest shake.
"I can't. But…I don't want to hurt you. I don't have any reason to. So…just…let me move on and we won't have any problems."
Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at how ludicrous it all sounded. Just let him go. Like they were both out on a walk and just happened upon each other. They weren't standing here on opposite sides of the law.
"That's not gonna happen."
He shrugged in an almost good-natured fashion.
"Can't blame me for trying. My problem isn't with you, Deputy. I have no reason to hurt you unless you try and stop me. So…just lower your gun and step aside. I know you think I'm your enemy here. But, I'm not."
Vic tightened her hand on the gun.
"I'm not gonna ask again."
Finn took a step back from her as she started to advance on him. His eyes stayed on her steadily, never faltering even when he backed up. She saw his chest expand with a breath and steeled herself for the fact that he might try and force his way through.
Finn opened his mouth to reply when both were startled by a sound off to the left.
"Hey!"
Vic jerked slightly, her focus momentarily broken. Finn took advantage, whirled and took off. Vic nearly fired, but he was moving and she didn't have a solid shot.
Colter flung himself into her line of sight. That was the only way that she knew how to describe it. He gave her a wild-eyed look and then started after Finn, without a word.
"Shit."
Vic took off after him, her feet pounding the ground.
xxx
"He's gone."
"Yeah, no shit."
Vic stood by her truck, her anger palpable. Walt glanced her way, hearing it bubbling over in her tone. Mitchell Colter gave her a look. The man was dirty now, covered in sweat that hadn't dried, a half empty water bottle in his hand.
"He outran me."
Vic stared at the man. Her expression made Walt glad he wasn't the object of her ire. It was an anger he hadn't seen from her in quite some time.
"Maybe you shouldn't have yelled like you did and given him the chance to take off. Jesus, haven't you ever heard of sneaking up on someone?"
The Marshal looked apologetic. It wasn't getting him anywhere with Vic in her current mood. She was restless, despite her run through the woods after Finn Mason. She would be favoring her right foot for a day or so, thanks to nearly colliding with Walt and pulling her ankle in an attempt to miss him.
"I…reacted prematurely. I'm sorry."
Vic shook her head, her jaw set firmly. Walt could have told the man not to bother. He was on her bad side and he was likely to stay there for a while. Walt wasn't exactly thrilled with the manner in which the scenario played out either. Colter's so-called reaction endangered all of them. Primarily Vic, who was face to face with the suspect in the moment.
Thankfully, Mason wasn't looking for a fight or a confrontation and opted for escape over anything else. It could have turned out badly. Walt was grateful it hadn't. He had already told Colter as much, rattling the man further.
Vic's phone buzzed and she pulled it out. She scowled and turned, limping off as she spoke. Colter watched her go before his eyes moved to Walt, looking for some kind of forgiveness.
"I am sorry."
Walt inhaled deeply and looked out over the Bronco.
"Being sorry wouldn't help you if she had gotten hurt."
His tone wasn't particularly hostile. But, it held a warning all the same. Something that went beneath the surface of anger. Colter heard it and he knew it. The man ducked his head and pulled out his own phone.
Walt turned his attention to Vic, who was coming back in their direction with her phone still in hand. She looked even unhappier, if that were actually possible.
"I missed my meeting with the Mayor. So, he's super happy with me. I'm sure he's making some bullshit list of things to tell Cady."
Walt gave her a sympathetic look.
"He can't blame you for being on a case."
She shoved her phone into her pocket.
"You know how these guys are, Walt. They think everything stops for them. I didn't talk to him, anyway. Just his secretary."
Walt shifted on his feet.
"Did you reschedule?"
She nodded and swiped a loose strand of hair away from her face.
"Yeah. In the morning. First thing. Just how I want to start my day."
Colter rejoined them.
"Deputy, I am sorry. It wasn't my intention to…I'm sorry."
Vic cut her eyes at him, dismissal clear on her face.
"We have a possible murderer on the loose. Still. So…we need to put out a bulletin on him."
Colter nodded.
"I already talked to my office and they are on it."
Vic dropped her eyes and let out a sigh.
"Okay. So…there's nothing else for us to do here, I guess. He's long gone."
Colter didn't respond. The late morning turned into afternoon as they searched every inch that they could access looking for Mason. The trail went cold out by the road, making it obvious he wasn't in the woods anymore. There was no telling where he might be and they all knew it.
Now the sun was low and darkness was encroaching. There wasn't anything else they could do. Walt knew that was one of the reasons for Vic's irritation. They were, again, at a dead end.
"Can I ask you something, Deputy?"
Vic looked up and met Colter's eyes.
"What?"
Her tone didn't welcome questions, but the man asked anyway.
"Why didn't you shoot him while he was right in front of you?"
Vic looked at him as several seconds ticked by before answering.
"Because, I want to question him and he had a gun on me."
"You had a gun on him."
Vic tilted her head.
"Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe I'm just not in the habit of shooting first and asking questions later. We…still need answers as far as Nate Bradley goes. And, he seems to be the one with those answers."
Colter shrugged.
"He confessed. That's all that matters. You had a clear shot and you didn't take it."
Vic bristled visibly, her mouth opening as her brain worked to form a reply that would most likely be profane. Walt intervened before she could respond to the comment and escalate the tense situation further.
"Let's…call it a day."
He stepped in between them with his back to Colter and his eyes on Vic.
"Everyone is tired. Frustrated. Let's start fresh tomorrow."
Vic met his eyes and her mouth closed, her jaw tight under the skin. She pressed her lips together and nodded at his suggestion.
"Right."
Not waiting for a response from either man, she pulled out her keys and walked towards her truck. Colter watched her for a moment before turning his attention to Walt.
"Can you give me a ride to the office?"
Walt nodded, his eyes still on Vic.
"Yeah. Get in."
The two men got into the Bronco as Vic pulled out in her truck, bits of dirt and rock scattering under her tires as she pulled out.
xxx
Vic hadn't heard Walt come in while she was in the shower. Under the spray of hot water, with her thoughts working overtime and in the process of washing her hair, she hadn't heard much of anything outside of her own mind and the space that she occupied.
But, when she turned off the water and started to dry off and dress, she could hear him in the living room. He would more than likely be starting a fire. The sound of his footsteps was familiar and she didn't need to see him to know that it was him. She dressed quickly in yoga pants and one of Walt's shirts before combing her hair. Halfway through the task, the bathroom door opened and Walt appeared, filling the doorway. The air around her was warm and damp, the smell of soap and shampoo still lingering.
"Hungry?"
Vic pulled the brush through her hair one final time before laying it on the vanity.
"Starving."
They missed lunch thanks to the clusterfuck of a chase Colter got them involved in. Vic trailed Walt into the kitchen, taking note that he did build a fire. He nodded at the takeout bowls on the table.
"I stopped by the Red Pony."
Vic flipped the plastic lid off and inhaled the aroma of chili. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of just how hungry she was. Walt passed her a spoon and took his own seat. Vic started to eat, her eyes on the food.
Across from her, there was no movement from Walt. He was watching her. Vic raised her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
His expression was difficult to read, his eyes murky.
"You were lucky today."
Vic sighed and set her spoon down in the bowl.
"Can we not do this?"
He watched her as the seconds passed them by. It felt like an eternity before he moved. Without answering her, he started to eat. Vic resumed her own eating, her eyes dropping away from his. The meal passed that way. Quietly. Vic finished first. She stood up and set her spoon in the sink. Dropping the takeout bowl in the trash, she turned back to the sink and started to wash the few dishes that were there.
She heard Walt's chair scrape on the floor behind her as he stood and tossed his own trash. He joined her at the sink, a familiar pattern of washing and drying. The task only took a handful of minutes.
Vic wiped her hands on the dish towel and tossed it on the counter. She could hear Walt behind her, following her to the couch. She sat down, wincing as she moved. Walt must have seen it.
"How's your ankle?"
Vic leaned back and pulled her feet up gingerly.
"It hurts."
Walt reached out and closed his hand around her calf.
"Here. Let me see."
Vic turned and put her feet in his lap. His hands moved softly over the injured ankle. Her leg jerked once, involuntarily, when his fingers applied pressure.
"Ow!"
Walt glanced her way.
"Sorry."
Vic brushed off the apology.
"Could be worse."
Her reply was quiet. Walt ran his hand over her ankle, his fingers trailing lightly over the skin.
"Yeah. You took a risk going in by yourself."
She moved beside him, trying to get more comfortable.
"You would have done the same thing."
It was a point he couldn't argue with. She knew that. He was more than a little guilty of the same transgressions. And, not just in work related situations.
"I know."
His words were quiet and measured. His hand stilled on her ankle. He was thinking and she could see it. She could almost see the thoughts in his head. Walt looked down at her foot for a long stretch of quiet.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
He looked up after he posed the question and met her eyes. Vic tilted her head.
"I did."
He shook his head.
"You told me and Colter. I want you to tell me."
She knew what he meant. He didn't need to clarify.
"Do you think I should have shot him?"
Walt held her eyes.
"You're the only one who can make that call."
Vic sighed. Laying her head back against the couch, she closed her eyes. Since it happened, she had replayed the incident over and over in her mind. Every time, she drew the same conclusion. It nagged at her like an itch that she couldn't scratch. But, they weren't alone then. She was hesitant to say exactly what was on her mind with Colter around.
Walt was right. She didn't trust very many people. Neither did he. She trusted him implicitly. With everything. It was the kind of trust that spanned both the personal and professional and was rooted in experience and understanding.
Vic opened her eyes to find him watching. Waiting.
"There's something…"
Her words trailed off. Walt's finger started to move idly over her foot.
"What?"
Vic licked her lips. Her eyes left his and drifted to the fire. She looked into the flames for a long moment before directing her gaze back to Walt.
"I was walking and I heard something in the trees. That was just before you called me. A deer ran out and I thought…it was just the deer. But…"
She paused, collecting her thoughts and piecing the scene back together in her mind.
"…I heard it again. It was the same sound, Walt. So…the first time…I don't think it was the deer."
He was following her thoughts.
"You think it was Mason."
She nodded.
"I think he scared the deer and caused it to run out. It happened so fast that I didn't think about it at the time. But, the deer bolted like it was startled. And, not by me. That would mean that he was right there and I just didn't know it. But…he knew that I was there. He wasn't surprised to see me."
The weight of her words settled over them.
"He could've shot you."
Vic nodded at the statement.
"Yeah, he could have. He…could've done a lot of things. He had the advantage and he didn't take it. He was…he was so calm about it all. Not…not how you would think. It's hard to describe. So…if's he's a murderer, why not kill me and get away? Why…take the chance that I might shoot him?"
Walt was mulling over her questions. He could see her point and she knew it. It raised more questions. A lot of them. Vic leaned forward.
"We're talking about a man who supposedly killed a teenager. So…why am I still alive?"
Walt's face clouded over at her presentation of that question.
"Well, I'm certainly glad you are."
He wasn't amused. Vic offered him a smile.
"Yeah, me too. Do you see my point, though?"
Walt nodded slowly.
"Yeah, but what does it all mean?"
Vic shrugged.
"I don't know. All I know is that he could have killed me and he didn't. That's…a fact that I can't ignore. That's…why I didn't shoot him. I…didn't feel threatened. Not…in that way. "
"He held a gun on you. That's a threat."
"Yeah. Right."
She didn't sound convinced.
"Walt, listen to me. I don't think he ever intended to hurt me. That's…what I'm saying."
He sighed and she couldn't tell if he agreed with her assessment of the situation.
"I hear you, Vic. And, it's a good point. But…"
He didn't finish the thought. Vic pulled her feet from his lap, sat up, and moved closer to him.
"Say it."
Her voice was gently urging. Holding back was not something they did. Not anymore. There was no reason to start now. Walt remained quiet.
"Walt, if you're mad at me, don't pretend that you're not."
He inhaled.
"I'm not mad. I was…scared."
She knew that it took a lot for him to voice that particular emotion. Even to her.
"I'm sorry that I scared you. It…wasn't my intention. But…I have a job to do. You know that."
He nodded.
"I know and you're right. It's just…it just…it never gets any easier. Thinking about what might have happened."
Vic slid her hand around his upper arm.
"Aren't you the one who always tells me not to let my imagination get the better of me when it comes to that? To not…dwell so much on what could have happened? I'm here and I'm okay. Well…except for my foot. But…I'll survive."
She tugged at his arm, trying to pull a smile out of him. Walt tilted his head in her direction and she could see that he was tipping back into his normal frame of mind. Getting caught up in the what-ifs was really more her thing than Walt's. But, she knew he worried about her. For all her own fears about his mortality, she couldn't begrudge him that.
Vic smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"You wanna table this and go to bed?"
Her tone implied that 'go to bed' didn't necessarily mean to sleep. He smiled a little.
"I thought your ankle hurt."
Vic shrugged, her smile growing and shifting.
"I think we can work around that."
She straightened up and stood, holding out her hand.
"Come on. You're…tense. We both are. Let's….do something about it."
Vic gave him a smile that she knew he wouldn't turn down. Walt's own smile grew, spreading across his features as he stood up slowly and took her hand. Vic slid her hand up over his wrist to his forearm.
"You're very convincing."
She laughed and tugged on his arm, pulling him towards the bedroom.
"So I've been told."
xxx
The room around them was quiet. Vic was awake and he knew it from her breathing. She was on her side and facing away from him with her back pushed into his side. Walt rolled carefully onto his side and slid his arm over her hips. She lifted her own arm to accommodate the move, confirming that she wasn't asleep. Walt's chin came to rest on her bare shoulder.
"Why do you think he didn't hurt you?"
Vic inhaled.
"I don't know."
She tilted her head back in his direction.
"All I know for sure is that he could have. That's not the move of a cold-blooded killer."
She was right.
"No, it's not. So…do you think he's innocent?"
Her shoulder moved. Shrugging, he guessed.
"I don't know that either. We can't…dismiss anything right now. He could be taking the blame for someone else. Or…maybe he's just a really good liar. I'm going to see what I can find out about him tomorrow."
"From Colter?"
"No. On my own."
She moved her hand and let her fingers trail over the arm he had around her.
"I'm not sure what to believe. Colter…seems like he really wants to solve this. But…"
She sighed.
"…I don't know. It's all making my head hurt."
Walt kissed her shoulder.
"We wouldn't want that."
She smiled and elbowed him.
"Ha. Ha."
He readjusted his chin on her shoulder after her movement.
"Did you talk to Cady?"
Vic shook her head.
"No. I meant to call her. I'll do it tomorrow. God, I'll be glad when she's back. This all…sucks."
Walt smiled, but then a somberness settled over him.
"Have you talked to your mom anymore?"
A frown settled over her.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering. Have you spoken to your dad?"
"No."
Walt tightened his arm around her. With everything going on, there hadn't been much time to address everything that was happening on a more personal front for her.
"I'm sorry about your dad, Vic."
She chewed on her bottom lip.
"Me too. It's…it's hard to process right now. I need…to call him."
Walt felt a pull in his chest. Both of his parents were gone. Had been for some time. He knew there was no good way to alleviate what she was going through. It was something she would need to navigate. He could help her, but there was no way for him to shoulder the burden for her. That was the one thing he knew to be true. No matter how much you loved someone, you couldn't take their pain away. You could only help them bear it.
That was true of Victor Moretti. It was true of Vic. All of them, really. They were each waging their own battles. While those circumstances might intertwine, they were different for each individual and unique to them. As hard as it was for him to watch Martha go through her treatments and face the after effects, all he had been able to do was offer her comfort. That left him feeling useless. Helpless.
He hated every minute of it. All he wanted to do was take away her pain. Make her feel better.
The same was true of Vic when she was shot. When she miscarried. There was no way for him to relieve her of the pain she was mired in. No way for him to repair the damage or make her feel whole. That was up to her just like it was up to Martha when she was sick.
Even love had its limits.
"Walt."
Her voice came to him quietly.
"Hmm."
She moved in his grasp, turning towards him. Walt released his hold on her and she wound up on her back, looking up into his face. Her features were soft now, drowsy. All of the anger and frustration that plagued her earlier in the day was gone. Stripped away. At least, for now.
That was something.
"I'm sorry that I worried you."
It was all she said, but he knew what she meant it. She sounded sincere. He didn't need an apology. It wasn't her fault. Her earlier comments were correct. He would have done the same thing. It was her job like it was once his. The job required decisions that weren't always easy or clear cut. He couldn't fault her for that.
He recognized that as a former sheriff.
It was harder to digest as her husband.
That was the struggle. Colter asked him how they managed. It wasn't easy. It was never easy. As long as this was her job, it wouldn't be. As long as he took risks, it wouldn't be. But, that was who they were. It was what brought them together in the first place. The truth of how they made it work was as simple as it was complex.
They worked at it.
The work never stopped.
Moments like this one defined it. She didn't need to apologize to him for who she was. But, here she was doing just that in the same way he had done in the past. He couldn't have expectations of her that he didn't meet himself. There was no absolution to be given, so his reply was simple.
"I know. So…earlier, you said something about a job offer?"
She vibrated with a laugh.
"Oh…the uh…the Sheriff over in Cumberland County told me when I get tired of all the shit over here, to give him a call and he'll get me a better job. That's…me paraphrasing."
Her words were light, but Walt's expression remained somber.
"Seriously?"
"It seemed legit. Why?"
"Are you actually considering it?"
Vic gave him an odd look, her eyes narrowing a bit.
"I haven't had time to think about much of anything that's not right in front of me. Why so serious?"
Walt studied her.
"You just seem…"
He shook his head.
"I don't know. It's late."
For a moment, it seemed like she might question him further. She held his eyes. Reaching up, she ran her hand along his jaw, a smile tugging at her.
"You need to shave."
He smiled.
"I know."
xxx
Vic leaned on the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee sitting beside her with slow wisps of smoke rising up from the caramel colored liquid it held. She reached up and rubbed at the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed as Walt came in. His boots scuffled to a stop and she opened her eyes, looking up.
He was watching her with concentration.
"You okay?"
Vic nodded at the question and picked up her coffee.
"Yeah, fine. Just…have a headache."
Walt's eyes roamed her face.
"You didn't sleep very much."
It was observation, not a question. He knew that she was restless the night before. He knew she woke up at least twice.
"No."
Walt moved on by her and poured himself a cup of coffee. He paused and took a sip, his eyes falling back on her.
"Hungry?"
Vic shook her head.
"No."
Walt sipped his coffee again.
"You sure?"
Vic nodded and made a face.
"Yeah, my stomach is…not feeling great."
His brows knit together.
"You're not getting sick, are you?"
Vic eyed him over the rim of her cup.
"Wouldn't that just be icing on the damn cake?"
Walt carried his cup to the table and sat down. Vic continued to stand where she was, drinking her coffee, her mind obviously a million miles away. Walt nodded his head towards the seat she normally occupied.
"Why don't you sit down?"
Vic set her mug back down on the counter and picked up her phone from where it rested just beside her.
"Because I have a meeting with the Mayor before work. Cady wants me to call her after that."
Walt's expression was thoughtful.
"What's her take on all this?"
Vic shrugged.
"That the Mayor needs to mind his own business. But, Cady is so much better at telling him that in a manner that doesn't piss him off."
She slid the phone into her back pocket and pushed up off the counter. Lifting her coffee cup, she finished it off and walked over to the sink to deposit it. Walt stood up slowly and blocked her path when she went to leave the kitchen.
"Hey."
She tilted her head back and looked up into his face, her lack of boots accentuating the height difference between them.
"Hmm?"
She still seemed distracted, not that he faulted her for that. He knew Vic had a lot on her mind.
"Why don't you book some plane tickets to Philadelphia?"
Vic looked at him with clear confusion.
"What?"
Walt stepped in closer.
"This case is…moving some now. So…why don't you go ahead and plan for some time off. Once Cady comes back. Maybe next month sometime."
She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, her eyes on his.
"In the middle of all this?"
Walt didn't relent on his idea.
"Vic, you need to go home. You need to go and see your dad. You also wanted to take some time off. So…there it is. Let Cady know, book two tickets. By then, things should be settled down and we can go to Philadelphia."
She huffed out a humorless laugh.
"Talk about jumping from the frying pan into the fire."
Walt placed his hands on her upper arms.
"I know it's not what you had in mind when you mentioned taking some time off. But, this is something that you need to do."
Vic swallowed.
"I know. And, I've thought about it. I just…with this case and everything…"
Walt cut her off.
"You know how you always tell me that I can't save everyone?"
She sighed, knowing where he was going.
"Yeah."
"Well, neither can you. You know that if you try and wait for the perfect time, it won't ever come. There's always a reason. But…this is one thing that you need to do. Sooner rather than later. I'll talk to Henry about looking after the horses while we're gone and we can stay for a week or…two if you want."
Vic inhaled and nodded.
"Okay. I will look into it."
He offered her a smile and tugged her into his chest.
"Send me the flight information when you have it."
For several minutes, she didn't move or talk. She simply stood where she was, her face pressed into his shirt. He could recognize that problems were starting to build up and there needed to be some relief. For that to happen, she would need to face it head on and try to resolve something. So much was beyond her control. She needed to focus on the things that she could control.
Finally, she stepped back.
"I gotta go. Don't want to be late."
He smiled and kissed her, his hands falling away from her arms.
"Good luck."
She smiled at the comment. Not the kind of smile that he wanted to see. But, it was better than nothing at all.
"Thanks."
Leaving him the kitchen, she left to finish getting ready.
xxx
Roy Buckley reminded her of a used car salesman. That was the image that stuck in Vic's mind. He was short and portly with gray hair that was balding on top. His smile was polite, but obviously for show. Maybe she wasn't the best judge of such things. As a general rule, she didn't care much for politicians. After Sawyer Crane left office, Buckley ran. He was already on the county commission, so the citizens of Durant were familiar with him At least, the ones who followed that sort of thing.
"Deputy Moretti, you are aware of the disintegration that occurred between my predecessor and the Sheriff's department?"
Vic fought the urge to sigh. Did she ever?
"Yeah, I was in the middle of it."
"Exactly. That is part of the reason I ran. This county's leadership should be united."
Another suppressed eyeroll. Vic tapped one foot idly on the floor of the office.
"I'm not part of the county's leadership. Our policy is and has always been that we don't comment on ongoing investigations. You're asking questions that I don't have answers to. Would you rather I lie?"
He leaned back in his chair, causing it to squeak slightly.
"Of course not. But…I would like to know that his case will be resolved. You seem ambivalent."
Vic wondered if he was tossing out the vocabulary words to throw her off. He didn't realize she lived with Walt, who was the most prolific reader she knew.
"It's more like…I don't like to be summoned. I don't work for you. I work for Cady Longmire."
He nodded and clasped his fingers together in his lap.
"I know who you work for. I will be having a conversation with Sheriff Longmire about all of this when she returns. Maybe you should think about what you want your lasting impression to be before I make that call."
Vic narrowed her eyes.
"Are you threatening me?"
She pushed the words out with a hint of disbelief.
"I don't make threats. That's counterproductive."
Vic leaned forward.
"I can save you a phone call. I've already spoken to her and she told me to tell you exactly what I've told you. That when this case is done, we will be happy…"
Not her specifically. That was for damn sure.
"…to brief you on it and talk about the crime problem. Until then, we can't compromise this case."
He let out a deep breath, signaling his displeasure.
"Julia warned me about you. She said that you were difficult."
Vic raised an eyebrow.
"Sounds about right."
In truth, it wasn't the worst thing she'd ever been called.
"So…are we done here or…is there something else?"
He looked at her for a long moment, a heavy silence spreading out between them. It made her feel fidgety. But, she refused to give in to the temptation. There was a strong chance that was what he wanted.
To make her feel unsettled and off-kilter.
She merely looked at him, meeting his eyes with hers.
"Do you have any idea who murdered this young man?"
He swapped tactics and went straight for sheer bluntness.
"We're investigating that very thing."
Buckley removed his hands from his lap and drummed his fingers on the desk. He was different than Crane, but also not. She figured there must be a common vein that ran through the type of people who sought office. Who sought leadership roles and power.
There were exceptions, of course.
Walt, for one. Cady, as well.
But, they were the same. Father and daughter. Both motivated by a genuine desire to do right by people and make some kind of positive difference. Maybe even Carson Cooper. She didn't know the man well enough to say for sure, but he seemed like a good man. The opposite of Jim Wilkins. Wilkins was another who was self-serving as far as Vic was concerned.
"Fine. You win. For now."
Vic stood up and eyed the man who didn't bother to stand as well.
"So…we're done here?"
He nodded.
"Yes. We're done."